Shag sought out the discomfited newsboy, and, chuckling as had his master, handed the lad a dollar.
"Say, what's this for?" questioned the lad, in astonishment.
"Colonel done say to give it to you fo' hurtin' yo' feelin's."
"He did! Great! Say, does he want a book—a, paper? Say, I got a swell detective story—"
The boy started out of the compartment.
"Oh, mah good Lord! Fo' th' love of honey cakes, don't!" gasped Shag, grabbing him just in time. "Does yo' know who the colonel is?"
"No, but he's mighty white if he wants to buy a dollar's worth of books and papers. I haven't sold much on this trip, but if he—"
"But he don't want to, boy! Don't you understan'? Jes' listen to me right now! De colonel don't want nothin' but Walton an' his angle worms!"
"Who's Walton? What road's he travel on?"
"He don't travel. He's daid, I reckon. But he done writ a book on fishin' poles, an' dat's all the colonel reads when he ain't workin' much. It's a book 'bout angle worms as neah as I kin make out."